The convoy rolled like thunder through East London's veins. Fifteen black Rolls Royce cut through the rain, their engines growling in perfect rhythm. People in the flats above pressed themselves to their windows, whispering in fear.
Everyone knew what those cars meant. They weren't just vehicles—they were a warning.
Ali stood at the edge of the ruined café, soaked to the bone, chest heaving as the procession surrounded him. Doors opened in unison, and men in black stepped out like shadows given flesh.
And then Rizwan emerged.
The storm seemed to pause around him. His suit was immaculate, his stride measured, his gaze sharp as a blade. Every step he took felt calculated, as though the ground itself permitted him passage.
Ali's pulse pounded. This was the man who haunted whispers. The figure said to have broken empires with nothing but precision and will. Standing in front of him, Rizwan didn't look like a man at all. He looked inevitable.
Rizwan's eyes swept the street, then settled on Ali. "You brought noise," he said quietly. His voice carried through the rain, low and steady. "Noise draws wolves."
Ali swallowed hard. "I needed answers. About KH."
Rizwan tilted his head slightly, considering him. Then he looked past Ali, to the terrified man still pinned against the café wall.
"You think he knows the truth?" Rizwan asked.
Ali hesitated. "He knows something. Enough to fear them."
Rizwan stepped closer, boots crunching glass. He stood inches from the man, studying him without emotion. The silence stretched until the man broke, trembling.
"They control everything," he whispered. "Cops. Courts. Streets. No one escapes."
Rizwan didn't move. Then, with a flick of his hand, one of his guards stepped forward, dragging the man away into the night. His screams were swallowed by the rain.
Ali's stomach turned. "What will you do with him?"
"What must be done," Rizwan replied flatly. His eyes found Ali again. "You want survival. But survival requires sacrifice."
Ali clenched his fists, fighting the tremor in his chest. "Then teach me."
For the first time, Rizwan's expression shifted—a faint shadow of approval.
"You'll follow. You'll watch. And when the time comes, you'll choose what kind of man you are. But understand this—" Rizwan's gaze cut through him like steel. "Once you see the truth, you'll never look at this city the same way again."
The engines roared. The convoy moved. Rizwan gestured for Ali to step into the center car.
Heart pounding, Ali obeyed. As the door shut, the storm outside became a distant echo. He was inside the black convoy now—inside Rizwan's world.
And for the first time, Ali realized he wasn't just chasing answers anymore. He was chasing power.
*Cliffhanger: What lesson will Rizwan show him first—and will Ali be strong enough to survive it?*